The Question
by BadOldWestern
Summary: Three Shot. Katniss's decision to have children, and how Peeta gets her to change her mind.
1. The Question

He doesn't quite know how to ask. She doesn't quite know how to refuse.

It's been nagging at them for months.

His eyes will glaze over in a strange way at the mention of childhood or children, even during their almost nightly routine, and there's a longing in them. Something to be desired. He can't phrase it right, he doesn't want to hurt her with "Would you- _can you_- have kids?" The trauma they'd both went through left stresses he wasn't sure she could overcome, but he didn't even know how to ask.

Her eyes will sharpen and jaw will tense when his words stumble, or his movements slow, and the subject is dropped. She spends every day scared to death of losing him and she can't bear the thought, bear the idea, of his pain, and she can't bear the weight of another little person to worry about.

He loves her, real, and she loves him, real. But she can't manage another person she needs to protect.

She lies in the lamplight, stretching like a cat, muscles tired and skin warm from a day in sunlight. Her eyes flit to him, standing in the doorway, hand on the frame, hesitating and staring at her. She smiles, wriggling into a more comfortable position as he crosses the room to join her.

He slides into bed next to her, body hovering over hers. Her gray eyes spark with curiosity and she offers a smile ripe with anticipation. He smoothes the hair back from her face lovingly and chokes on his words. Her brow furrows. She can feel him trying.

He surrenders, nuzzling his face into her neck. Her hands find his tension filled shoulders and gentle massage, trying to work the question out of his body and far, far away. She heaves a gentle sigh that ruffles his hair.

"Let me hold you." she says quietly.

He slowly settles himself on top of her, careful, so, so careful of his weight over her. He sometimes can't believe she can take it, but she always can. She's strong. His arms slide around her, holding her close. They cling to each other like children. This is all they can manage some nights. They lie in silence.

"Something's bothering you." she observes, tangling a hand in his hair.

He shakes his head too quickly, too readily, and her eyes glint with knowledge. He wants to ask her again.

"Peeta." She prompts him, waiting as patiently as she can.

She is answered by silence. She presses a kiss to his head.

"I just don't know how to ask you so you'll say yes."

The unspoken question is a line they'd only toed before, and this is as close as they've gotten to bringing it up.

She closes her eyes tightly.

"Peeta, I'm scared. I can't."

He pushes himself up on his elbows, letting one hand rest on the side of her face.

"Katniss…"

Her eyes fill with tears. "I want to make you happy, but I just can't."

He shakes his head.

"I'd never make you." he says solemnly. "I don't want you to think…"

She interrupts. "But it's what you want. I'm sorry. I want to give you what you want. You deserve nothing less than that. But I can't even think about having a baby now." The word hangs between them.

He rests his forehead against hers, pressing a gentle kiss on her lips.

"Just not now?" he says, trying to mask that beautiful, childlike hopefulness in his voice. She can hear it, and she loves it so damn much it hurts. It breaks her heart.

Her voice gives out as she starts to say something, and he closes his eyes tiredly.

She takes a deep breath and kisses him again.

"Not now, but also not never." She says timidly.

He smiles and kisses her brow.

"Well, I just hope I can see your pretty face on our own little boy or girl."

She rolls her eyes and swats his ribcage. Her hand rests on the spot, smoothing it over. Her instincts for survival involve not letting anything hurt him, so her usual roughness is always softened seconds later, as an afterthought, even following trivial things like kicking him under the table as a joke. Even when he's teasing her and deserves a little affectionate shove, before he can even take the force of it, her hand is wrapping around his arm, pulling him close, holding him. She needs to soothe even the idea of causing him pain.

"Only if they have your eyes." She muses quietly.

His breathe quickens against her neck. This is more than saying 'maybe' or even 'yes' to his question, this is her picturing their children. That is enough to tide him over for the evening.

"Peeta." She says quietly, shyly.

"Yes?"

"What if I really can't?"

"I won't make you do anything you don't want to."

"No…like, if I wanted to, but I just…can't?"

Her eyes are locked on the window and the darkness outside. They have that glaze over them that she gets when Prim is mentioned. The look of loss.

"I don't…you know…anymore. I haven't since the first games."

She shuts her eyes. Barren. The stress her body went through lingers after all these years. She can't create with him. Her gut wrenches. She felt safe with this knowledge, hoping she wouldn't have to deal with this. She didn't even want to have children; it was one less thing to worry about. But Peeta, she was willing to give him anything to make him happy, and she knew she couldn't give him what he wanted.

He rolls off her and then it is her being held by him, arms locked around her tight like he is shielding her.

"I don't care, it's alright."

She shook her head.

"It's what you want." She says in a small voice.

"Katniss, during those first games, I loved you despite knowing you'd have to kill me eventually. Even after all my memories were tainted and I thought you were a monster. When I thought we had no time left for any of this." He motions around their room, in the house they shared in Victor's Village. "Do you think this is going to change that? No."

She lay there, unmoving, but her eyes turned to him, open and a bit afraid.

He took a deep breath. "You love me."

There was no need for her to answer this, after the first few times he asked this she made sure he never needed to ask again.

"And I think our lives would have been very different if I didn't love you as much as I do. I have you. That's all I want."

She is silent. Her face is unflinching, but her head was reeling, and he knew her well enough to see it.

His hand slides to stroke her back. "Right now, you said you didn't want to have kids. So we're not having kids, for now. And if you decide you want to, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Don't get upset."

She smiles weakly at him. "Why do you always have to be so amazing?"

He pushes her hair out of her eyes. "Years of practice, while I was waiting for you."

She rolls her eyes. "Nice. Did you just think of that line or have you been saving it?"

"It might have been in the back of my mind for a while. Now since I'm so amazing, how about a kiss?"

She laughs, which is a little sniffle-y and awkward because she was so close to crying. But at least she's laughing.

She curls into his body more comfortably now, nuzzling his neck and sliding her hands over his back. "What about it?" she says sweetly.

He raises his eyebrows. She's normally a little too no-nonsense for talk like this.

He leans his head down and whispers, his voice husky; "Well, if you wouldn't mind terribly, I'd like one."

"Just one?" she's smirking now.

"Unless you have more to spare."

She shakes her head, feeling silly. "Okay, you know I hate this."

He cracks up. "You were doing fine."

She rolls her eyes. "You can be the seductive one. I'm too tired right now."

He secures his arms around her waist. "Come on, I was enjoying it."

She's never good with words, and though she is very easy to read, she isn't the best at articulating out loud what she wants. Peeta has recently been pushing for that because, well, he just wants to see that side of her.

"You seduce me; I'm no good at this stuff."

"I thought you were doing great. Really sexy."

She sticks her tongue out at him.

His voice lowers dangerously. "Katniss, I'd like a kiss. In fact, I'd like a lot more than that. Please, sweetheart?"

She smirks, running her fingers along the side of his face. She smoothes his hair back, very slowly, as if preparing him for something. She lowers her lips to his brow, and with a gentle, dry smack she delivers one kiss. She moves down to his cheek, and places another. She takes her time to get to his lips, an innocent, quick peck. His eyes are glinting with good humor.

"I don't have all night." He mutters.

"I beg to differ." She murmurs back, tangling her fingers in his hair and pulling him into a slow, lazy kiss. She rolls on top of him as he's already working on her clothes; she follows in working off his pants and shirt.

Once he finishes with that task, his lips can't quite leave her body, face, lips, neck and chest. Katniss still can't get over the tenderness that have, wet and tickling against her skin. She whimpers, wants more, and in a rare moment of boldness lifts herself to let her breasts hang over his face. He immediately accepts her request and latches unto a perked bud, suckling. She moans while his hands squeezes and toys with the other breast.

"Why do I think, after the conversation we just had, this is really inappropriate?" she gasps.

He laughs from his current place under her breasts. She blushes and lifts her torso to see his face, and he suddenly grabs her, dragging her body back to straddle his hips, chest brushing his. She whimpers again, feeling tender and raw. He smiles so shamelessly, so darkly, that she shudders.

"We were talking about us; I don't see what's so wrong with this."

He lifts his hips into hers, and she feels it against her and wants to cry out.

If she hadn't had her eyes locked on his, she would have laughed. But he was so deathly serious that her own eyes glint as her teeth tug she bottom lip shyly.

"There's nothing wrong with this." She murmurs, her hand finding the side of his face, caressing and holding gently.

His fingers find her, already wet and waiting eagerly, so much that her hips go wild the moment he moves a finger in.

"Easy…" he soothed. "I thought we had all night."

She groans, head falling to his shoulder, still bucking, grinding, trying to ride his unmoving finger if he was going to be that way. She nearly cries when he pulls it out, then pushed it back in, curling inside her to stroke that delicious spot.

"Peeta." She sighs, legs going wider, rubbing herself against his body. "I want you."

He smiles at her. "I want you too, Katniss."

Her hand finds him, hard and throbbing, and she shifts herself, guiding him inside her. he pushes his hips up to fill her all the way, and she moans loudly, grinding her body on his to just enjoy the sensation of him filling her for a moment before things heated intensely. She stares at him hungrily, and he smiles tiredly, ready to be fucked.

"You're real." He muses. His thumbs trace circles on her hips. "Sometimes you seem to be the only thing left that's real."

Her eyes tear up at this, and she's panting, wanting to find her release, and his, hopefully more than once tonight, but what he said made her heart swell and she was struck dumb at the moment. He laughs; hands on her hips gripping tighter and sliding her back and forth a bit, the sensation making her legs shake already.

"What are you waiting for, sweetheart?" he murmurs, and she awakens.

She bends to re-claim his lips, bouncing on his cock. Her tongue explores his mouth, and she rides him in a fit of passion, love for him bubbling in her veins. His hands move from her hips to her back, face, breasts, everywhere, and her movements grow frantic until they find her clit and rub, and that's all she needs. She's mewling against his mouth as he thrusts up into her, continuing all this through her bliss, shortly followed by his own.

"Any chance you forgot your pregnancy shot this month?" he gasps out, as she collapses by his side, slick with sweat and panting. She laughs tiredly, just a whoosh of air as she collects herself.

"No such luck, sweetheart." She murmurs, a little mournful.

"Damn." He says casually, not too concerned, and pulls her close. Despite the heat she snuggles into him, nose brushing his jaw line.

"I love you." she adds as condolence.

"You're lucky you're cute." He grumbles in mock-irritation, but she grimaces, hating the endearment. "Cute" was something Haymitch had often reminded her she was not; she secretly took pride in it. There was something patronizing about being called cute. Only Peeta could get away with it, with only mild protests on her part. He was also the only one to see it, and it was rare, and fleeting, when she'd giggle or twirl, which she nearly never did.

"You know I hate when you call me that." She grumbles back.

"Why do you think I said it then?" he kisses her head. "Get some sleep, cutie."

"Bastard." She mutters, kissing his cheek.

"I love you too. Night."

Holding each other, they find solace in dreamless sleep, not waking until rosy dawn.

There is so much trauma involved in their combined history that memories stung, like running fingers along a scar not yet healed. The dull ache in her chest rarely left. She wanted to be happy with the boy with the bread. Her optimistic, wonderful, sweet boy with the bread. And every night that she could, which was every night when she wasn't going to pass out from exhaustion, she took solace in his arms. During that time, she felt so thoroughly loved she forgot what she was missing. With him at arms length, she was able to let go of the missing pieces, stop rooting around her mind for them like a lost sock, and focus on what was in front of her.

Their world was small and contained, no outside world tearing them apart. They couldn't live like that any more, their moments taken and perverted in the public eye. It was just them. It was beautiful, the two of them, without anyone else's hands prepping and preparing or just trying to hurt them and what they had. They just had each other, and for her, for now, that was enough.

But a compromise took root that night, and it only needed time to grow.


	2. She Says Yes

She couldn't have done it without him, simply put. He gave her stability. He was so steady as they both grew together.

The early years with him second guessing himself and her, (_do you like that? am I doing this right? does that feel good?)_ were over. He knew her. He knew what she wanted and what she _loved_. She could see it in his eyes, this steadiness, assured about every part of her. She began to feel it to, in where to touch and how, when to speed up or slow down. They knew each other better than anyone else could. And those nights where he hovered over her moving so right against her, it flickered in her mind; maybe. She could give him what he wanted most. She loved him enough. Things were getting better, but… She'd recoil. Shut the thought out of her racing mind and try to let her focus go back to that wonderful thing he had switched to doing with his hips. Then she'd see his eyes. Steady, full of love, and a little ticked off from not having her undivided attention. And she'd smile, ruffle his hair, and he'd nuzzle against her hand, already forgiving. And the thought would come back. But those beautiful eyes looked down on her and offered a warmth, a lifeline that she never had before him.

When she cried, he's hold her. He soothed her nightmares and helped make meals and took care of her in any way she needed. He babied her more than she liked, but for all that effort, didn't he deserve and little one of his own?

It was gradual. The dozen times she almost said yes she clammed up to make sure this wasn't a whim. She didn't want to feel like she was rushing or making a mistake or waking up the next morning with her heart in her throat and realizing it was a grave miscalculation. Finally, she had to. She felt almost ready. And she decided, the next time he'd ask, she'd say yes.

She decides not to tell him in bed. That was the place where she was easily influenced, warm and safe, her guard was down. Where everything sounds nice. If she could agree far away, somewhere less intimate and sweet, she'd feel more ready. Less like she was giving in.

She hasn't gotten her pregnancy shot yet. She's only a few days late and she keeps delaying. The last one has had to have worn off by now. She needs to tell him before they actually create the child, and her procrastination leads to a bit more rejection than Peeta is used to.

"W-wait." She stutters out nervously, pushing his hips away from hers. He looks surprised.

"Are you alright, was I hurting you?"

She shakes her head frantically at the guilty look on his face. "No, it's just... I…fell out of a tree hunting this morning. It's…sore. And I feel a bruise coming on. So…do you mind we that not…you know...tonight?"

He looks almost comically; naked, kneeling between her legs, an expression of guilt and worry as his eyes rake over her. He checks for the oncoming "bruise" with obvious concern. Katniss wants to cry over his face, lying to him feels awful. She knows it's with the best intentions though.

"I don't see anything, but where does it really hurt you?" his hands ghost over her legs.

She sucks in a breathe, not in pain but pleasure, which he misunderstands and his hands lift off her immediately. She mourns the loss of his touch.

"I'm fine, really. Just not…_that _ tonight," she slides her arms around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss. His body is rigid, trying not to touch the offending area, wherever it is. Katniss isn't even sure how that lie exactly worked. She is just happy he believed it.

"Let me take care of you", she wraps her hand around him. He's not quite soft and rouses quickly in her hand. He groans against her neck. "I feel like I'm gonna hurt you."

Luckily he can not see her face, for her eyes rolls at this. Why is he so perfect?

"Lie on your back." She amends gently. He rolls over, and she seats herself between his knees, stroking his cock. He is now allowing himself to enjoy this. Katniss continues her movements as she shifts to lie by his side and places her lips close to his ear.

"I feel so stupid for falling this morning, I want you inside me _so much_ right now." Another lie to fix the first one. Well, not quite a lie…the second part was very much true.

He grunts a little. "You aren't hurt really bad, are you?"

She bites her lip, ashamed. "No," she murmurs, "I'll be fine, and by tomorrow night I'll be all ready for you." she nibbles his earlobe, kissing his neck tenderly. She never speaks like this. She's usually too shy, even with him. But she's bold from her decision, and she loves him, and wants to fix the lie she told that made him feel guilty.

He thrusts into her hand a bit, close to cumming.

"It's such a shame; I love how you fuck me, I want it _now_." She hisses.

At this, he cums, and she licks her hand clean of him. She helps him clean himself up a little, and snuggles back by his side. Lying to Peeta, she feels low for this. They were always honest with each other, even if left unspoken, they understood each other. There shouldn't be a need for this.

There's a dull ache between her legs, satisfaction far from what she was feeling. She wriggles a bit uncomfortably, feeling sorry for herself. But she got herself into this mess; she'd need to wait it out until she told Peeta she was ready. Whenever that is.

Part of her wants to change her mind, run to the doctor to get the birth control shot tomorrow. But she shakes the thought from her head. It's time; she's as ready as she'll ever be.

He drifts off to sleep, believing she will as well. Part of her is excited over the prospect of his surprise. Soon, he'll know that she's ready.

Her heart nearly stops when she finally thinks _tomorrow._ It feels like it was going to surge out of her chest and burst. Every thought after sends it into a flurry of panic. So she stays wide awake, watching Peeta sleep, as she did after many of her more mild nightmares. When she didn't wake screaming, which was becoming very rare, she collected herself without rousing him. Those nights, she'd watch him sleep soundly, peacefully. He looks like a child. So the next morning, she shall tell him.

She doesn't sleep. Her eyes are still open as he wakes, pulling her closer to his body and kissing her hair.

She fidgets nervously at breakfast all morning. He notices, but says nothing. He smiles whenever he sees her nervous, waiting to see her burst. He can sort of tell she's hiding a happy secret. He wants to hear it very badly, but it's almost more fun to watch her like this, so unsettled.

"Maybe we could go for a walk today." She suggests, trying to be coy, but she blurts it out earnestly after a lull in their conversation. She planned on being casual and failed miserably.

He raises his eyebrows, trying to remain casual and succeeding more than she did.

"Sounds like a good idea, after breakfast maybe?"

Her heart races. "Sure." She chokes out.

Breakfast is completed in silence. Katniss leaps up as soon as she finishes her food, clearing her plate, washing it and drying it just to give her idle hands something to do. Peeta creeps up behind her at the sink, embracing her.

"You can relax a little, I'll protect you." He murmurs in her ear, teasing her.

There were a million of other things he could have said. But this is the best. Every tense muscle in her body seems to unravel, and she pivots and kisses him quickly, freeing herself from his grasp to grab her hunting boots.

She takes him out to the woods, nearing the pond, her secret place. The way twigs snap and leaves crunch under Peeta's feet soothe her. She feels home.

He's a few feet behind, giving her space, cautious. She stops, doesn't turn around, but reaches her hand behind her to offer to him. He takes it, and she leans on him as they walk.

They reach a boulder by the lake, flat and dry. She seats herself and pulls him down next to her. He watches her carefully, trying not to smile. "What is it?"

"I haven't gotten a new shot yet." She blurts out. Katniss blushes.

Peeta's face is confused until he registers. "So that's why last night…"

"I'm sorry I lied."

He nods, and looks confused again. "You could have just said that you hadn't gotten your shot this month, then we could at least have done something other than sex until you got a new one." His hand slides up her leg suggestively.

She kisses him shyly, feeling stupid, trying to buy time to find the words.

"I didn't tell you because…I don't think I'm going to get a shot this month, or for a while…"

He picks up almost too fast. Poor thing was so eager. "You mean you wouldn't mind getting pregnant."

She presses her forehead to his, closing her eyes. "I'd like that." She says nervously.

He grabs her so tightly she opens her eyes. His are shut, but he's tearing up. Her heart stops. He's so happy. For a millisecond, it's worth it. The fear, everything. But it passes. She's so scared, but he's so happy, this has to be the right choice. She's conflicted, but only as his eyes are closed. When they open, she smiles bravely at him.

He kisses her, the open-mouthed, sloppy, passionate kiss he only gave her on extra special occasions. He lays her on her back and parts her legs, grinding into the core of her, and she moans.

"Peeta, come on, not here."

"I know," he replies, kissing down her body, "but I just want to thank you."

He lifts her skirt over her stomach, pulling her underwear down, leaving her exposed. She fidgets uncomfortably, if only for their location. No one would find them, but it was outside in the woods, for pity's sake. Her discomfort is lost though when his tongue snaked up and down her slit. She forgets everything but him and the sensations he was giving her as two fingers slip inside her and his tongue laps at her clit. She bucks and keens and whines in the back of her throat, it's all getting to be too much for her, she's going wild.

"Peeta," she cries shakily, because the only word she can manage is his name.

He hums in response, sending vibrations throughout her body. His fingers delve deeper, thrust rougher, and stroke the spot he never seemed to have to search for. He knew where to touch to make her body, heart, and mind burst.

He glances up at her, thumb replacing his tongue with little circular motions on her clit. His eyes are dark with lust.

"Thank you." he whispers, and she's so dizzy and eager to cum she doesn't know what he's thanking her for exactly. Then his teeth gentle graze that bundle of nerves and she falls to pieces, screaming so loud birds startle all around them. They take to the skies with loud chirps and songs like a chorus of blissful chaos. Katniss is gasping of air as he kisses her thighs, rubbing his hands up and down her hips and waist. She pulls him up, kissing him passionately, tasting herself on his tongue.

She pulls away timidly. "I don't want to get pregnant here." She admits.

He laughs. "We'll get you pregnant wherever you want."

He envelopes her in an embrace and lifts her up, leaving her underwear strewn across a branch a few feet away. She straightens her skirt to cover herself up as he marches her home, never letting her feet touch the ground till the reach their bedroom. His feet on the forest floor are the noisiest she's ever heard them, triumphant and proud, thundering and crushing.

He sets her on their bed and rids her of every scrap of clothing, smiling stupidly down at her.

She smiles back, but there's still fear in her eyes. He sees it, frowns, and stumbles over to the nightstand.

He opens a drawer and seems to be searching for something. She cranes her neck to see what he's up to, and she sees the flash of a shiny foil wrapper. He holds it up to her. A condom.

"You have five seconds to take it back, and I'll wear it. No judgment." He promises, but his eyes look like a dog being denied dinner.

She frowns at him and shakes her head. "Sweetheart." She takes it and tosses it aside, opening her arms for him. He sits next to her on the edge of the bed, and she holds him, ruffling his hair.

"You're too good, you know that?" she wants to cry.

"If you're unsure, it's okay."

"Stop making me unsure. Stop being so wonderful." She groans. She kisses the top of his head. "I want this. Now take off your clothes, you know how I hate being the only one naked."

He pushes her on her back and slides his shirt off, settling between her open legs. They kiss him more aggressively than usual, as he grabs at her breasts. She feels how hard and ready he is as he grinds into her parted legs. Her hips buck up to meet him. He pushes her knees up and thrusts into her, both of them gasping.

"I've wanted this so for so long." He says quietly, surprisingly articulate.

"I'm sorry." She chokes out.

"Don't be." He smiles at her, kissing her nose.

There is a moment of silence, and it's as if they're back to the beginning, unsure and nervous. It's too much for Katniss to bear.

"_Move,_ Peeta." She whines.

He snaps back to life, rocking in and out of her, neither of them suppressing moans.

It doesn't take long for him to get close. His hand moves down to get her caught up with him, wet fingers dancing over her clit in the best way.

Her walls tighten and shudder around him as she cums, crying out in a high pitched whine close to his ear.

He rides out her orgasm and follows with his own, filling her with his seed.

"Thank you." he whispers into her hair, neck, ear, lips, everywhere.

"Well I'm not pregnant yet"

He smiles. "Well maybe you are."

Her heart nearly stops.

They have sex every night for a week. Usually multiple times. Peeta is so tired of waiting, her wants her pregnant _now._

Katniss is terrified. She accepts him, all of him, wants to get pregnant for him. She wants him happy, but she's so scared. She wants to take it all back in fear. She has no idea what she was thinking. But as she glances out the window, she sees Peeta playing with a little girl from some new family who moved to District 12 recently. He lifts her and twirls her around, the sun glinting off his golden hair, and she's giggling. He was so good with children. Her heart softens, enough to break. This is for him, and maybe someday, it will be for her, a little bit.

"For us." She decides, mumbling to herself, and offers a small smile to whichever ghost she was talking to.

The next day, she finds out she's pregnant.


	3. I Told You So

She liked to hold him.

Their son was still in the roly-poly phase, as Peeta affectionately called it. She had rolled her eyes when he said it first, but it was true, with layers of baby fat and springy blonde curls, her son was a ball of sunshine. Always smiling. Always giggling. Just the right size to draw into her arms and tickle.

Peeta was the fun parent. Nearly spoiled their children rotten, if they hadn't already possessed his sweet disposition. Cheerful, happy babies that nearly took care of themselves. That still didn't quell her fear.

He could barely walk; usually toddling on unsteady legs, and was crawling on his belly across the sunny yellow nursery Peeta had painted when Katniss was expecting him. That sweet little boy looked up at his mama and giggled. She couldn't help but smile.

"Come here." She said softly, the closest she ever got to baby talk. That was Peeta's job. Cooing over them and carrying them around and coming home with a fresh batch of cookies so they always went to sleep with their bellies round and full, tired and loved. But she was the one to sing to them. Always. It was the only thing Peeta insisted "no, ask Mama. She does it better than me."

Her son shook his head, getting up and running to the other side of the room, laughing at his game. She got on all fours and crawled over, narrowly missing swiping him up, and followed him. He loved it, giggling madly as Katniss 'missed' scooping him up. His laughter intensified as she cried "gotcha!" a few times, and then purposely missed. She even managed an exaggerated pout like she couldn't believe he managed to best her.

"You're so fast!" she smiled. "Mama's tired. Come here."

He hurried in a bouncy trot into her open arms, and she lifted him into her lap, tickling his belly and planting a raspberry on his cheek, tempting the laughter from him.

She laughed softly, gently, because even when he was in her arms, she was so scared, but less than usual. It felt like she could keep him, and her little girl, and Peeta, when they were close. She closed her eyes and rocked him in her arms.

"My baby." She murmured into his hair, kissing gently. "Mine."

"I think I can take a little more credit than you're giving me here."

He smiled smugly at her from the doorway. She started, but not enough to upset the child in her lap. Peeta was leaning on the doorframe, their daughter clinging to his leg. He was beaming so hard he could probably melt something.

She looked a little embarrassed. "How long have you been standing there?"

He glanced down at their daughter. "Oh, not too long. Somebody finished dessert and wanted to catch fireflies, so we went up to find you. You wanna join us?"

"Sure, I'll grab my shoes." She said quickly, helping her son up and watching him toddle out of the room. She could hear the thundering of two pairs of feet down the stairs, and then the faint sound of voices on the porch outside. She stared out the window, cheeks flaming. Peeta smirked and crossed his arms in a self satisfied way. He was gloating, very obviously.

"You love this." She muttered bitterly.

"Not as much as you love me for that." He nodded to her now-empty lap.

"Don't say it." She warned.

"I told you so." He said slowly, savoring the words.

He started making his way over to her, smiling brighter with each step.

"I. Told. You. So."

He settled down next to her on the floor, watching the sun set out the window with her. He slid and arm around her. "Gotcha."

She closed her eyes and shook her head. "Shut up."

Peeta smirked and took the end of her braid in his hand, toying with it.

"I love you so much right now."

"And you didn't before." She teased blandly, leaning into him. She tucked her head easily into the crook of his neck, like always.

"You know what I mean. I love you _and_ I get to be right for once. Score for me." He pointed out cheerfully. She rolled her eyes. Her body was relaxed for only a moment longer before tensing and springing up to her feet.

"We should probably get out there," she pointed out worriedly. She walked over to the window and glanced down at the yard, where she counted two blonde heads before taking a breath. Haymitch sat on his porch, bottle in hand, but he nodded up at her, as if to say he was taking care of them. Peeta stood behind her, watching this, heart sinking.

After their daughter was born, he felt like the happiest person in the world. Even happier when his son joined the family. For brief, fleeting moments, the look on his face when he held them made it so worth it for Katniss. While she carried them, held them, and nursed them, he'd watch with a look of pure love that seemed to radiate a glow that lit the entire room. It felt right. In her arms she held something that was completely theirs, their own little person.

He felt guilty, because Katniss's fear was so apparent. He saw it in her eyes when she lost sight of them for even a minute, her voice frantically barking out their names. The way she'd get quite during some nights before they all went to bed, she'd gather all of them, children in laps, him by her side. She'd stay connected to each person. Head on Peeta's shoulder, hand tangled in her daughters hair, arm around her little boy. It's like she thought if she could hold them close they wouldn't have anywhere to go.

They held hands as the went down the stairs and outside, Peeta stopping in the kitchen to grab jars for the children to catch the glowing bugs. Katniss watched him dig through the cabinets, eyes wide over how he managed to think of that. They sat on the porch steps, observing each insect and flower and rock brought to them with a fascination only parents could feign.

"Pretty." Katniss said simply at the rock thrust in her face, clutched in a chubby palm.

"I love the colors," Peeta added. He was better at all this.

She shivered as the rosy glow of the sun slowly sank, and Peeta slid an arm around her. "Warm you up later." He promised, and it sent a shock through her body and she smacked his shoulder, as if their children could read her mind and see the dirty thoughts there. Her hand tangled in his hair as she kissed his cheek. She turns back to the two bodies running frantically around the yard.

"They're beautiful." She said quietly, as if thanking him for an unexpected gift.

"I told you so." He said again, puffing out his chest, and she rolled her eyes again.

After they tucked the kids in and Katniss sang not one, not two, but three songs to each child, they ambled to their room on the other side of the house.

As Peeta shut the door behind them, Katniss made her way to her dresser, stretching her arms over her head and sighed at the 'pop' of her back cracking. He smiled, watching her, as she took her hair down and slid into her tee shirt that she slept in, and old one of his.

He pulled off his shirt and joined her in their bed, over the sheets because it was the point in the summer when there was no other way to sleep without feeling smothered.

He slid his arm around her, fingers fanned across her stomach, and groaned quietly.

"What is it?" she asked knowingly.

He snuggled closer. Curled up behind her, his breath tickled the back of her neck as it brushed over the tender skin in a steady rhythm.

"You're happy we had them, right? You don't regret it?"

Her heart dropped in her stomach. "You thought I didn't love them?"

"No." he said quickly, defending her more than himself. "I just know this wasn't entirely your decision. Sometimes I wonder if you could take it back…if I hadn't pushed you so much…"

"You would never make me do anything like that." She turned to face him, placing her hands on his face. "Yes, at first, I did it for you. To make you happy. Because you've done even more for me, and I love you. But they're just like you. I can't take them back. I love you too- no, I love _them_ too much."

He smiled. "We're a family." Because they were, all they had to do was lose everyone else first. They came together to rebuild. They fixed each other.

He nuzzled the side over her head, his mouth by her ear. "When we made our first baby together, that was my favorite time making love."

Katniss couldn't manage an answer to that. She still wrinkled her nose at the term.

"I thought you were getting tired of trying by the time I conceived." She pointed out.

"Awfully hard thing to get tired of," he teased. He rolled himself on top of her. "Your turn. Tell me about your favorite time."

She looked off to the windows at the night sky as she mulled it over. "Can't choose. Too many to think of one."

She could feel the frown pressed under her ear, followed by a kiss.

"That's a boring answer." He whined.

"That's a strange question. You know I don't like getting nostalgic over 'lovemaking'," she said the last part dramatically, swooning a bit underneath him.

"That's cause you're just looking forward to the next time." he lifted himself up a little bit, beaming down at her.

She raised her eyebrows. "Maybe I'm looking forward to when the next time is _over." _She poked his chest. "Ever think of that?"

"Never." He said triumphantly, tickling her sides.

He was still very proud of the day he discovered the Mockingjay is extremely ticklish. She wasn't always that way, and was never pleasant when responding to that sort of play, until recently. She twitched underneath him; writhing, giggling crazily, breasts bouncing a little.

He relished the sight of her like this, growing slightly aroused. He remembered his promise from earlier. He let up his assault on her waist, watching her collect herself, breath shallow and light. He leaned down to kiss her; slow, sweet, and full of intention.

She picked up right away, sliding her arms around him, one hand on his back the other at the nape of his neck. Her legs slid around his waist, and he sat up, pulling her onto his lap. She shuddered, lifting the tee shirt off of her head and flinging it to the floor. He got a handful of each breast, groping and squeezing as her tongue moved inside his mouth.

She rose on her knees for a moment, as he slid off her underwear, and lowered herself back down, grinding on him. She could feel him rise up to the occasion, moaning into the lip-lock.

"I love you." she said lyrically, smiling.

"Love you too." He kissed her gently.

His fingers found her slit, stroking the soft inner flesh. She was wet.

"Oh Peeta." She whispered. He smirked, she wasn't the most vocal person at night and he was very pleased with himself.

"You're all wet for me, aren't you?" He hadn't tried to talk dirty to her in a while, something about having children on the other side of the house made her shy. He assured they couldn't hear, but she still turned pink when he steered the conversation in that direction. But tonight, she looked him square in the eyes, grinding her hips against his hand a little, and said, "All for you."

His eyes grew dark.

She kissed him. "Only for you." she promised.

His free hand slid up and down her side protectively. He stared up at her, breathing a little quicker over this turn of events. "So, nobody else can do this to you?" His finger slid inside her, curling at the right spot and she gasped. He already knew the answer, but her wanted to hear her say it.

"No one Peeta. Why do you think I'm with you? I practically belong-" she lost this train of thought as a second finger is added.

"Are you saying you belong to me?" he asked, testing the waters for where this conversation would go.

"Yes." She bit her lip, hips rocking wildly against his hand.

His lips found her neck, sucking lightly. "So, you're mine?"

"Peeta I'm yours." She pushed his head back and locked eyes with him. "And you're mine. I wouldn't have it any other way."

This went past the between the sheets banter he had meant to start, he knew all this, he'd known since he came back to her, since he decided to die for her, since he heard her sing when they were five. All those years he hoped they would have something special. He thought he could only imagine this. He never thought he'd have this.

She whimpered a little at the loss of his fingers after he slid them out of her wet core.

He freed his cock, sliding up inside her. She threw her head back, and he kissed her neck longingly.

"Mine." He growled under her ear. Her nails found his back, raking over gently. Her hips shifted, rising up and down as he moved in and out of her. She wrapped her arms around him, and he held her tight, fucking her slow and gentle. Her chin tucked around his neck as they curled into each other, bonding into one. She was almost relieved they weren't talking anymore, as they fell into the bliss of slow and careful movement and touches. They were concentrating on each other and completion, the sensation of him filling her and her wrapped tight around him.

His hands found her hips and controlled her rise and descent down him. Chills ran down her spine as she angled her hips a certain way, moving faster, but not yet frantic. He was hitting her in all the right places, she was so close.

Suddenly, he shoved her hips down quickly, and simply sheathing him to fully so fast lead to her completion, quiet moans escaping her lips right near his ear. He continued to lift and lower her hips on him, walls contracting around his cock, as she met him in a final kiss that sent him over the edge, spilling inside her.

Her forehead pressed against his, both of them sweaty and panting, as her arms looped around his neck. Together they tried to catch their breath in comfortable silence; unlike the first few times were they weren't quite sure what to say to each other after all that.

Peeta helped her shift off of him, and she lay down on her back, snuggling into a comfortable position. He retrieved her shirt for her, and she pulled it on. He spooned behind her and she held his arms in place. Like so many other nights, nearly a routine.

"I never thought it'd be like this." She murmured, just as he was about to nod off.

"What?"

"My life, our life. I never thought we'd have time together, like this."

"Like what?" he rolled her over, pressing a hand to her cheek.

She thought for a moment. "Warm. Small. Happy."

He smiled, eyes closing. "I pictured that life for you. Just not with me."

"There was never anyone else, not like you."

"You would have found someone, I'm sure."

She shook her head, holding his chin so he'd look at her. "I only wanted you. Without you, I wouldn't have any of this. I wouldn't be here. There wouldn't be anything." She choked a little on her last words.

He smiled again, sadly. "I wanted this so badly. A life like this. But I couldn't picture it without you. I tried, but it just felt…plastic."

She smirked. "Well I'm glad you tried imagining a world without me, to no avail."

"Not worth living in." He answered dramatically. "No point to it all. People walk through the woods with no regards to how much noise they make. The animals live in fear and the people go hungry."

She rolled onto her back, closing her eyes. "Your sarcasm is making me feel unappreciated as your partner."

He took her hand in his, squeezing. "Thank you for communicating your feelings, I will try to not use sarcasm that hurts you and makes you feel unappreciated." He was completing a line to a script, in an awful video on counseling of marital problems Effie sent them very early on when they started sharing a dwelling. They read the first chapter together before they hurt themselves from laughing too hard, and only used it's advice as a joke. Peeta actually won a few fights by making her crack up with a few lines from it, much to her frustration.

"Let's be grown-ups for a second." She murmured.

"I like where this is going." He raised his eyebrows at her suggestively.

She took a deep breath, settling for sleep. "Not a chance Loverboy."

"I love you?" he offered.

"I know. But you had your fun, go to sleep." She rolled back toward him, and for a moment they were a tangle of limbs until they settled into holding each other in a way that way comfortable for each of them. One person is that last thing the other sees when they drift off, and when they wake up, and vice versa. They dream peacefully. No more nightmares.

_A/N Please don't get angry at me for not naming their children. Suzanne Collins didn't even open up that can of worms, I couldn't bear to play god and make that decision. Nothing seemed right. I tried to stay as in character as possible, please forgive typos and lapses of any sense. I'm not the best writer. I know it switches from present tense to past tense in this chapter; I started all three of these stories at the same time, starting them like a month ago. Finally dug them up to finish this week. Feel so happy they're done. Sorry if the ending feels rushed, I wasn't sure when to stop. _

_Review for more Katniss and Peeta, I also take requests, it motivates me to write!_


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